Give Me One More Chance (An Ambrollins One-Shot)
by LunaticFringe'sAngel-LA15
Summary: With Battleground just around the corner, Seth decides that he and Dean need to set things straight. Simply put, he wants to talk and go back to them being best friends. Dean wants the same thing, but both get more than they bargained for when someone admits their true feelings. The result? A night the two won't forget. Inspired by XxLeahEGxX and her Ambrollins videos on YouTube.


Give Me One More Chance

A/N: I blame YouTube (XxLeahEGxX's amazing Ambrollins videos) and my obsessed mind for this one-shot. Ambrollins videos that give you Shield feels and pain and… Well, here's this if anyone wants to read it. I've never tried writing in first person, so… Yeah, let's see how well this goes… It started out as a K rated fluff and angst fic, honest! Then, I got a bit carried away...

It had been over two years since the infamous destruction of the Shield, and with Battleground coming up, one person always plagued his mind. It was no secret that Dean and Seth had been closer than close during their time as the Hounds of Justice. Roman was their best friend, their brother, but he just wasn't as close to the other two as they were with each other. Dean had loved Seth and Seth had loved Dean. There was no question about it and the two weren't afraid to show it. It showed in the ring, during a match, during promos, backstage, when they were in public. Then, it was June 2nd, 2014 and all the trust, all the care, all the safety was destroyed, and not a day had gone by where Seth didn't regret it. He hated himself for being so weak and giving in to Triple H, for turning on the two people who loved him the most, for hurting Dean… His betrayal of his brothers had destroyed a lot of things, but it couldn't destroy the love Dean and Seth still held for each other.

Until the end of their feud, Seth thought that Dean couldn't stand the sight of him, couldn't bear to be anywhere near him, hated him with a passion. Then, the lumberjack match. Everyone's face when it had happened. " _I LOVED YOU_!" Dean had shouted at him. Then, he kissed him. Seth's heart had shattered into a millions of pieces over and over again until there was nothing left of it to beat in his chest. He'd shed a tear in that moment, though he'd wiped it off on the mat before anyone could see. But Dean saw. He saw the single crystal clear droplet of water slide down his former brother's cheek. Nothing but pain and sadness were seen in the sparkling blue orbs when they locked with sparkling brown ones. June was last month, but it didn't matter. The feelings were still there, and they wouldn't go away. Not until he could see him. Not until he could talk with him. His mind wouldn't rest until then. He had his goal in mind, and he wouldn't stop until it'd been completed.

XxX

RAW 7/11/16

Detroit, Michigan

Seth's POV

I walk into the arena, suitcase in hand, a few hours before RAW was supposed to start. I have my usual skinny jeans and T-shirt on, not wanting to bother with a suit. My eyes sweep the immediate vicinity, looking for a certain someone with wild brown curls that were impossible to miss. It's deathly quiet. Usually, employees are bustling around, checking equipment, going through papers, reminding superstars and divas about things, setting up for the show. Apparently not today as there is no one in sight. I keep walking, checking around corners and down hallways. Not a soul.

I make my way into my locker room and set my stuff down, unpacking my ring gear and checking my phone for any messages. A text from Roman saying good luck tonight. Roman and I had buried the hatchet about the whole betrayal thing. Our friendship had been rocky over the past few months, but it finally seemed to be going back to how it once was. After Roman's suspension, he'd reached out to me even more, even called me. We talk, hang out, share a few laughs. The same can't be said about Dean. He absolutely hates my guts. I'm not exaggerating here. He might fool the world with his smiles and his jokes and his goofball behavior, but I see right through it. He's hurt whenever he's around me. The pure anger and malice in his eyes and tone of voice aren't there anymore. Instead, they're replaced by pain and longing. Longing to be able to forget the once happy memories now tainted because they're a reminder of what used to be.

I sit down on a bench with my elbows on my thighs and head in my hands. Thinking about Dean is driving me insane. My mind won't stop working, won't shut down, won't focus. This isn't like me. I'm usually calm, have a clear mind, don't get bothered by much. I sigh and try to shake the cobwebs out of my head. That just makes them worse. Frustrated, I get up and kick the wall, screaming at myself to get it together. I brush some stray dark locks of hair out of my face and take a deep breath. ' _Take it easy, Rollins. In and out. Relax. It's fine_.' When my breathing is back to normal, I pocket my phone and exit the room, heading farther inside the arena.

Still, there isn't a person in sight. What was going on today? I keep walking, heading for a room where I hope to find him. I approach a locker room door, the locker room granted to the champ. The name Dean Ambrose is printed neatly on it. Tentatively, I knock a few times, the knock I use to let him know that it's me. "Dean?" I ask, trying not to draw attention to myself, expecting someone to jump out at any second from behind a crate or something. I knock again and, getting no response, test the door. It's open. Cautiously, I enter and am met with the sight of the fancy room that used to be mine before my injury. I look around and see an open suitcase, clothes strewn across a couch, a pair of sunglasses and wallet resting in an open locker. I do a quiet sweep of the room and find no one there. "Where could he be?" I ask out loud.

I exit the room and begin searching all the dimly lit hallways, empty rooms, hidden corners of the arena where the Shield would shoot their promos. No dice. I'm just about to give up and head back to my locker room when I spot a familiar leather jacket standing by the concession stands. He's holding a bag of popcorn and a bottled water and handing the cashier a few bills. He turns around and our eyes meet. Surprise flashes across his face and I feel like a deer in headlights because _hello, say something, walk over there, don't just stand around like an idiot, Seth_! We continue staring at each other for another minute before he looks away and walks in the opposite direction. I begin to follow him, taking no more than a few steps before someone stops me.

"Excuse me, Mr. Rollins," I stop and look over my shoulder. One of the stage managers is handing me some papers. "These are your new lines for your promo tonight. We've kept most of it the same, but there are a few adjustments made here and there." I nod distractedly and grab the papers, trying to catch up to him. She stops me once more. "I also came to tell you that your new segment, the Rollins Report, is being moved. We don't know whether it'll be later or earlier than planned, but I've been told to pass it on."

"Yeah, uh, thanks," I tell her and chase after Dean once more. I round the corner that he turned and meet an empty hallway. "Son of a-" I curse under my breath. Of all the times for someone to show up in this deserted building… I sigh and head back towards the locker rooms.

The rest of the show goes by like a blur. I feel like I'm on autopilot the whole time. Say the lines, do the segment with Dean, challenge for the title, leave. The need to talk with Dean was gnawing at me on the inside. When I got back to the hotel, I went to my room, dropped off my stuff, and left. There's probably only one place he'd return to after a show these days. So, here I am, back outside my former best friend's hotel room. With a shaky hand, I once again knock. There scuffling behind the door and I press my head against it to make sure I'm not hearing things. There's muffled noise, but I can't quite make out what it is. Once again, I test the door and find it unlocked. Huh. Well then. Okay Rollins, here goes nothing. I slowly open the door and slip inside.

A few sandwiches and a water lie next to Dean's ring gear. The suitcase was closed and there were clothes lying next to it. Faintly, I hear the sound of running water. He's in the shower, just great. I plan on leaving, but my curiosity always gets the best of me. I tiptoe towards the spacious bathroom and open the door, peering in, to see if he's really there, and am met with the sight of a very naked, very sexy, Dean Ambrose in the shower. I'd seen him without clothes on before, but this was different. I could stare and appreciate every little detail about his body: the way his lean muscles flexed every time he moved, the way his curls fell over his face and around his eyes just so, his slim waist, sculpted chest, his round ass… I see him moving under the warm spray, wanting nothing more than to strip down and join him. I wanted to wrap my arms around him from behind, feel his heart beating in his chest, see that smile he never used on camera, hear his laugh. I want to just be with him. I want to _be one_ with him.

' _Not the time, Seth_ ,' I remind myself. I shake my head and back away. I did not want to get caught peeping at Dean. The humiliation if I was. The consequences if Dean saw me… I'm at the door, but I hesitate. This could be my only chance to really talk to him before the PPV. Could I really afford to pass this up? Should I leave and call it a day? The choice is made for me when I hear wet footsteps and a gruff voice say, "What the Hell are you doing here?" His voice isn't hostile, but I'm wary nonetheless. I gulp and slowly turn towards him. I can't meet his eyes.

I take a deep breath and whisper out, "Hey, Dean."

XxX

Dean's POV

I am exhausted. Is that a strong enough word to describe how I'm feelin'? Nah, it's not. I feel about ready to pass out. I feel like I'm disconnected to my body, like only half of me is here. I feel like I could sleep a thousand years and still be too tired to do anything else after I wake up again. I'm a fighting champion, I'm the dude. Match after match after flight after interview after podcast after flight after interview after match. Should I continue? Being the champ has its perks though. Fancy hotels and locker rooms, bigger paychecks, having the spotlight and main events every show, being the face of the company. It can be nice sometimes. Tryin' to memorize your promo for a show in a few hours running on no food, a cup of coffee, and barely three hours of sleep, if you can call it that, was not nice. I haven't eaten, haven't had a break, haven't been able to get a decent night's sleep, since Money in the Bank. It's always "you have an interview in a few hours", or " there's a call from the guys upstairs", or a flight I'm about to miss. That's why I'm at the arena early, where there's hardly anyone around to bother me and I get a few precious hours to myself.

I drop my stuff off in my locker room, reorganizing my suitcase, throwing stuff around every which way. I'll just pick it up later. I grab a few dollar bills, not really wanting to carry my wallet around, and head towards the concession stands for some much needed food. I'll admit, popcorn isn't food, but I need something light in my stomach. I'll get a sandwich later. I also buy a bottle of water, knowing I'll need some later. I hand the kid behind the counter a couple of the bills I got from my wallet and take what I paid for. I toss a couple of pieces in my mouth and savor the salty flavor, amplified by the ample amount of hours I've gone without food. I'm trying to decide whether to walk around and wait for someone to show up or go back to my locker room and get in the zone, have some me time. If I wanted to decide, I shouldn't have turned around.

He's standing there, staring at me like it's been a lifetime since he's seen me. I don't expect it at all, and my eyes go wide in shock. Look up surprised in the dictionary and you'll see my face right now. Seth Rollins, the man I'd considered a friend, a brother, maybe even a lover at some point, is standing right in front of me. I don't know what to do. Our eyes meet and we just… so many feelings wash over me. Pain, shock, curiosity, sadness, want. I don't know what I want, but I just do. With the state I'm in at the moment though, I don't think I can deal with him right now, you know what I'm sayin'? I do the only logical thing I can think of and look away, knowing he'd just suck me in even further if I didn't. My feet act on their own and carry me away from him. I want so much to be able to talk with him, sit down with him without feeling like I have to put up a wall emotionally. I want to go back to being with him, to get past all the shit that's happened since 2014. Not that easy. I hear him trying to follow me, which only makes me walk faster. I turn a corner and navigate the arena, going through a few doors and paths that lead me right back to my locker room. Now was not the time. I go back into the room and stuff anything lying around into my suitcase. I take out my ring gear, the usual wife beater, jeans, wrist tape, etc., and sit my water and popcorn next to it. I take everything out of the open locker, shut it, and put those in my suitcase too.

The show goes by faster than the last forty-eight hours had. I have my moment, do my promo, play mind games Seth a bit, and head on out. I hop into my black Camaro and quickly drive back to my hotel, wanting to actually get some sleep for once. I park the car, grab my stuff, and head up to my room. I unlock the door, not bothering with closing it all the way or relocking it because I'm too tired right now, though not tired enough to sleep. My mind continues torturing me. I throw my stuff down in a somewhat organized pile, grab a towel, and head for the showers. If I can't sleep, might as well take a nice warm shower to relax my mind, right? I turn on the water and instantly relax as the warm spray beats against my skin. I lean against the shower wall, almost going limp for a second because my body is just so tired. I stay like that for a minute before I take a bar of soap and a washrag and start actually taking a shower. God, it feels great. I turn so the water will hit my back and I see a flicker of movement in the room. What the fuck? I turn the water off and wipe it away from my eyes. Grabbing the towel, I wrap it around my waist and walk out into the great of the room. "What the Hell are you doing here?" I ask as soon as I see him. He can't be here right now. No. I'm hallucinating. This is some sick, twisted dream and I'll wake up any minute now. I pinch my arm hard and close my eyes. I open them again. Nothing. Dammit.

I didn't ask as harshly as I thought I would, though I could tell that I sounded pissed. Seth was at the door, hand on the handle, about to leave. He froze and slowly turned to face me. His eyes looked anywhere but at me. My fingers fiddled with the towel. Softly, he whispers, "Hey, Dean." I stare at him, observing his body language. He's nervous about something. He won't look at me, his hands won't stay still, his legs are stiff, locked at the knees, head down, breathing uneven. I don't really know how to react, but I reply anyway.

"Hey, Seth," I say to him. That makes him look up into my eyes. I swear, every time I see him, he looks better and better. The blonde tips of his dark hair still stand out, his muscles are more defined than before, he's more confident of his abilities, both in the ring and on the mic. Seth licks his lips, lost in thought, trying to plan his next move. Prob'ly tryin' to figure out what to say to me. I want to say something, but everything in my being screams at me to kick him out of here. I ignore it. Instead, I ask him, "What do you want?" Seth doesn't say anything for a minute before replying, "To talk." I cross my arms, brush the hair out of my eyes, and respond, "I'm listening." He takes a deep breath, prob'ly to calm his nerves.

"I- these last few weeks, it's been fun and games and punches and surprise attacks. I never know whether or not you're trying to kill me or just messin' with me. I just want us to go back to being friends-"

"Go back? Unless you can go back in time like that one fanfiction you were reading last week-" He gives me a funny look. "You left your phone on in catering. I wondered what you were doing. A Moment In Time, I'll Turn Back. Did you show Ro that?" I gave him my trademark grin. Seth throws his arms up in frustration. "What? I didn't do anything!"

"This is exactly what I'm talking about! Every other day, you're either glaring at me, giving me hurt looks, or you're joking around like everything didn't go to shit! You hate me! Then, a couple of weeks ago, you look at me like I did something to you-"

"So, you barge into my hotel room, stare at me in the shower, ask to talk, and all you're tellin' me is that I'm confusing and that I should hate you. Then, you say that you haven't done a single thing to me? Really now?" I feel the anger rising in my voice. How dare he? I'm takin' my precious time to actually listen to him and he's being some obnoxious asshole. He wasn't always this bad. He used to be much worse. "You didn't stab me and Roman in the back? You didn't abandon me when I needed you the year after that? You didn't sell your soul to Triple H so that we didn't hold you back anymore? I'm just a hellcat with rabies, a business associate. Rome's just the golden boy, the muscle. You want me to hate you? Is that what you really want, huh?!" I'm walking towards him, backing him against the door. My arms are on either side of him, making sure he can't get away. My hands are balled into fists, shaking with rage. I have to remind myself to keep my temper in check. My tone becomes less harsh and my voice lowers. "How the fuck am I supposed to hate you when you're all I think about? Explain that to me. You're always in my head, alright? You're the first thing I think of when I wake up and the last thing I think about the rare nights I can actually sleep, alright? You're the reason my feeling are jacked up to shit, the reason I actually let people in, the reason I'm a better person."

Seth is speechless, hanging onto my every word. His eyes flicker from my eyes to my lips and back. Mine are doing the same. I guess he doesn't wanna respond because he changes the subject a bit. "Rome and I are back to being friends, and I just thought that maybe we could too…" I look at him suspiciously.

"You and Ro are back on the same page?" I ask disbelievingly. He nods. "Well congratu-fucking-lations. Good for you. Gold star, blue ribbon, winner's trophy, pretty boy. You think it'd be that easy with me?" Seth gives a shy smile. Shy and Seth Rollins don't go together.

"Honestly? I thought you would've beat the crap out of me and thrown me out of here before I could say a word. Never thought I'd get this far." He reaches for one of my arms, hand closing around my bicep. I try not to react to his touch. "Dean, I… I miss what we used to have. We could tell each other anything. We opened up to each other. We know each other better than we know ourselves. We were more than friends, than brothers, maybe even more than family."

"Don't," I warn him. I know where he's going with this, and I don't like it. "Don't bring that up." Seth chuckles sadly.

"We have to talk about it eventually." He squeezes my arm gently and, for some reason, it calms me down. How he does that is a mystery, but I'm pretty sure I already know. "There was something there, between us," he continued. "I know you felt it. In the ring and out, there was something going on. I felt it then, and I can still feel it now." I turn my head away.

"Seth, I can't." ' _I can't do it all over again. I can't get past everything that's happened. I can't try again. I can't live with myself. I can't risk hurting you this time if it doesn't work out. I just can't_ ,' I think to myself. He doesn't accept that answer. He takes his other hand and brushes it against my cheek gently. I lean into the touch instead of jerking away like I usually would. He takes my chin and turns my head to face him once more. I see hope in his eyes and heartbreak.

"Why not? Give me one more chance. Please… Why do you hate me?" I hear his voice crack at hate. There's a tear rolling down his cheek. I wipe it away and put one hand behind his head. I lean forward a bit more and our foreheads are touching. We both close our eyes in the familiar position.

With as much emotion as I can muster, I say to him, "You are, and **always** have been, the most important thing in my life. There were nights I wish I **could** hate you, then I remembered everything before. The hugs, the touches, the encouraging words. The sleepless nights, the road trips, the matches, the holidays… We've survived so much together. I could **never** hate you…" There are more words on the tip of my tongue, words I've never said to anyone. I want- no- I **need** to say them. With a shaky breath, I whisper into his ear those three words that change everything. " _ **I love you**_ _._ " His breath catches in his throat and so does mine. I feel a tear escape my eye and ask myself when I became so soft. I decide that it doesn't really matter. We open our eyes at the same time and there's so much love and raw emotion in our eyes.

"Dean…" he murmurs. A sob escapes him. "I love you too." We stare into each other's eyes before diving in for a desperate kiss. Electricity sparks when our lips touch. A fire starts there as well. My nerves feel like they've been doused in gasoline and lit aflame, making every touch feel like it burns my skin. Electricity is flowing through my bloodstream and every cell in my body. The endorphins in my brain are going crazy. Everything in the world suddenly made sense. This is what's been missing from my life, what I've needed to fill the hole in my heart. There's also a warm feeling in my gut. It's welcoming, safe, full of love. It feels like home. Our lips move effortlessly together, melding perfectly, like they were made for each other.

"Seth…" I say back. I hear him whimper and I also let out a needy sound. (Don't expect me to admit that very often.) Our bodies are pressed impossibly close, his arms circling my neck and mine on his waist and behind his head. It doesn't matter that I'm still soaked from the shower or that we're mortal enemies on tv. It doesn't matter that he left me all those years ago. It doesn't matter that he broke my heart and didn't apologize for it. All that matters is what's happening **right now**.

XxX

Seth's POV

There's an energy flowing through me. It burns, it hurts, it kills, it heals, but it feels so right. It's lit a fire in me. I'm on cloud nine and I don't ever wanna come back down. There are a million sensations that I feel right now. His hands reach down and pull on the bottom of my shirt. I lift my arms up and allow him to pull it over my head. Our lips are apart briefly before crashing back against each other, the sensations returning much stronger than at first. I whimper a little at the feeling. Dean's hands are roaming down my chest, nails lightly raking the skin. They reach the belt of my skinny jeans. He'll probably rip the pants right off me if I don't take them off myself. As soon as he unbuckles the belt, I break the kiss and frantically take my skinny jeans off, along with the rest of my clothes. I rip the towel away from his body and look it up and down. His eyes do the same to mine. We stay like this, hands exploring every inch of each other we could reach. The feel of his soft, yet calloused hands on my skin drive me insane.

Joy, relief, love, lust, and pure want resonate within me. I can tell that the same is true for Dean. We continue touching until I push myself and Dean off the door. He maneuvers us towards the huge king sized bed of the suite, perks of being the champ. My back hits the edge of the mattress and Dean is pressed against me again. His kisses turn more passionate, a little less rough. I moan when I feel his tongue prod my bottom lip. I part my lips and he explores every inch of my mouth, our tongue meeting ever so often. I moan into the kiss, pulling us both onto the bed. Dean moves and straddles my hips. There's a bottle of lube in his hand that appeared out of nowhere that he sets off to the side. He peppers my neck with feather light kisses, nipping and leaving marks in his wake. It turns me on to know that he is marking me as his for the rest of the world to see. He feels that against his chest and chuckles. "Eager, aren't we?" he asks me. I respond by lightly biting one of his nipples. He groans in pleasure.

"Now who's eager?" I say with a smirk.

"Harder," he growls, "As hard as you can bite." I look at him worriedly before obliging. He throws his head back as I do the same to the other. I dive in and bite and suck at his neck. His hands are carding through my hair as I do so. He's on his back now with me on top of him, straddling his waist. I slide down his body and take him into my mouth. He lets out a very loud moan as I tease the head and slowly take more into my mouth. I can tell he's trying not to buck his hips. I moan around him and he does, moaning himself, only causing me to moan louder and create a cycle. My name falls from his lips softly, like a whispered prayer, over and over. His hands grip the bedsheets tightly, turning his knuckles white as freshly fallen snow. When I can feel that he's close, I stop and slowly pull away. I pull him into a kiss so he can taste himself. As he does, he's pushing me down on my back and grabbing the lube. He coats a few fingers and slowly pushes one into me, arching it a bit and hitting my sweet spot on the first try. I arch my back off the mattress and moan his name.

"Right there, Dean," I tell him. Pleasure shoots down my spine and to my very core. It explodes and spreads throughout my body. I try to relax and not clench down. He pushes another finger in and stretches me further, still brushing against that spot. I pull him down into yet another kiss and he pushes one more finger into me. I'm pushing back against them, wanting more. He stretches me for a few more minutes before removing his fingers and grabbing the lube again. I whine at the loss of contact. He coats himself and positions himself. He looks into my eyes and I nod. He slowly pushes in and I try to adjust to him, not having done this for a long time. He stops and waits for me. I take a few deep breaths with my eyes closed and nod again. He slowly starts to move, establishing a rhythm, still hitting that spot and holy shit, this is the most amazing feeling. I can't control all the sounds falling from my lips. In between all the moans and whines and whimpers, I somehow find a way to keep whispering Dean's name every thrust.

"Feel good?" he asks me, speeding up the pace a little. His eyes are sparkling like sapphires, clouded over with lust.

" *moan* Fuck yes!" I manage to get out, hands roaming over his back over his scars and muscles. My nails dig into his skin and I put my head in the juncture between his right shoulder and his neck. One particular thrust makes me bite down hard, accidentally drawing blood. Dean laughs as his pace becomes erratic. I reach down and stroke myself to his pace. He puts a hand over mine and does it with me. The double stimulation is too much for me and I cry out, feeling my release splatter on my stomach. "Dean!" He moans as I clench down and he groans out my name. He stops moving and our eyes meet and it's like time stands still. Remember when I said I wanted to be one with Dean? In this moment, I am. And it feels amazing, more so than I ever anticipated.

He sits up a little and drags his fingers through the release still on my chest. He brings a finger to his mouth and eagerly sucks and licks at it. He holds out another finger for me, which I eagerly take into my mouth. I close my eyes and savor the slightly bitter taste. He slips it out of my mouth and I press a kiss to each fingertip. His still blissed out face brings a smile to mine. "I love you you lunatic," I mutter to him. He kisses me, taking my bottom lip gently in between his teeth.

"I love you more," he replies back. He licks the rest of the release off my chest and we stay wrapped in each other's arms for the rest of the night. When morning comes, we're still like that and I wake up to see him smiling at me. "You're so adorable when you're asleep." I just snuggle into his chest. "You'll wanna get your stuff. Plane leaves in a few hours." I hum in reply, not wanting to move. He sighs and sits up. I grumble and sit up with him. He puts his arms around me and says, "I know you don't wanna leave, but I'm not goin' anywhere. I will be right here when you get back. Promise." He presses a kiss to my forehead and I nod. I get up, picking up and putting on my discarded clothes from last night. I steal a quick kiss from him and rush out the door to my floor. I fumble with my room key before the door unlocks. Hastily, I grab my suitcase and anything I left here and shut the door, heading back to Dean. True to his word, he's still there, eyes glued to me. "Shower with me?" he asks. "You never did let me finish mine last night, and I'm pretty sure you didn't get the chance to take one." I nod and he drags me into the fancy bathroom. The water is running as we lather each other up with soap. His hands gently massage some into my skin and I do the same to him. Before he can do much else, I have Dean pressed up against the shower wall.

"Gonna return the favor for last night," I tell him. His look of surprise turns into one of pleasure as I nip, suck, and lick my way down his body, down between his legs. I press a few quick kisses there before making my way back up. He stares at me with hooded eyes. This time, it's **my** fingers that eagerly stretch **him**. He groans and pushes back against them. I arch them a bit and hit his sweet spot, ripping a moan from him. He asks me to do it again, and I gladly do so. At some point I stop and position myself. I slowly push in and savor the burn accompanying the pleasure of this. I don't stop, pulling out slowly and slamming back in, still hitting that spot. Dean moans loudly and it spurs me on further. I thoroughly fuck him into the shower wall, enjoying how his nails dig into my back and leave little half moon impressions in the skin. I enjoy how he wraps a leg around my waist, tugs at my hair. I revel in the images of his toes curling with pleasure, back arching like a cat, eyes fluttering open and shut. He's telling me to "Fuck him harder because fuck, it feels so fucking good and that I should never fucking stop." I don't intend to.

His name continuously falls from my sinful lips and mine from his. My hands roam his upper body, teasing his nipples and settling in his wild, light brown curls, tugging at them hard, just how he likes it. He wraps his other leg around my waist and my arms pull him closer and tighter around me. My pace picks up and it's not too long before I feel his release land on my chest, neck, even a little in my beard. I grin at him before the pleasure overtakes me as well. When our legs stop feeling like jello, we finish actually taking a shower, lazily making out and rubbing soap on our skin. When the warm shower spray finally rinses it all, we dry ourselves off and get dressed, heading for the airport with our bags (after stopping for breakfast of course). We have images to uphold. We can't be seen in public together, kayfabe and all that. I don't wanna leave him, refusing to let go of his hand when our flight begins boarding. "I'll be a couple of seats away, I guess," I say.

"Hey, look at me." I meet his eyes. "Screw what the company says. If you wanna be with me on this flight, then they can go straight to Hell if they try to separate us. I'm right here. I'm not goin' anywhere." I smile and he squeezes my hand reassuringly. We board the plane together, leave the airport together after the plane lands in the next state, check into the next hotel together. We're inseparable. We have our title match on RAW the next week and tear the house down, making fans lose their minds and revel in the feel of our unparalleled ring chemistry together. At Battleground, we fiercely kiss each other, in front of the entire world, during the Shield triple threat. Roman leans against the ropes, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Well it's about freakin' time you two. What took you so long?" he asks. Dean puts an arm around me, presses another tender kiss to my lips, and flips him off. We hold our fists out and Roman joins us in the center of the ring in front of the roaring crowd. I got back my family, a friend, a lover, a soulmate. Dean and I are happily together, dragging a willing Roman along with us for the ride. Once again, it's the Shield, a brotherhood, a family, against the world. And we wouldn't have it any other way.

Closing A/N: I've never written a one-shot or chapter this long and explicit before. My soul is all withered and charred and stabbed and destroyed. My conscience is sated for now. The fanfic mentioned is a work by caylendar. Really great read that takes you on a feels rollercoaster. Any thoughts?


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